


Double Tap

by spideywhiteys



Series: 365 Days of Naruto AUs [50]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Actually a James Bond AU to be specific, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Doctor/Patient, F/M, Ino is a therapist, Meet-Cute, Mentions of Murder, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Pre-Relationship, Sai is 002, Sai is never addressed as Sai, lmao meet-cute but not very cute, not because he’s actually in the fic, shikamaru is Q, sort of flirting?, spy AU, which I’m mentioning because i want to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29566923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideywhiteys/pseuds/spideywhiteys
Summary: Yamanaka Ino has just been handed the opportunity she needs to take the next step upwards in her field of work. All she needs to do is make some progress, any progress at all, on the assessment of 002’s mental health.Easier said than done.
Relationships: Sai & Yamanaka Ino, Sai/Yamanaka Ino
Series: 365 Days of Naruto AUs [50]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086938
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Double Tap

**Author's Note:**

> Day 50: Spy AU / Ino + Sai
> 
> YEEEAAHHH FIRST GOAL! 50 DAYS! Still going strong!!! Thanks for all the support so far :)

His file comes across her desk around 2:30pm on a Thursday. Ino doesn’t work with the Double-O’s, never has and never actually expected to. She’s responsible for the majority of their field agent’s mental health, placing stops when needed or approving the continuation of their careers. But a Double-O is an entirely different ballpark. For one, they barely go to the mandatory health checks, physical or mental; secondly, even if she wanted the job, they have a perfectly competent team of therapists and advisors who are  _ still _ failing to wrangle the agents.

So no, she never expected to work with the Double-O’s because she’s doing absolutely  _ stellar _ where she is, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t  _ want _ to. 

They are the best agents to ever come out of the program — the very top of the pyramid in every way that counts. In looks, social skills, marksmanship, combat; it almost seemed as if there was nothing they couldn’t do. 

Ino doesn’t even know what most of them look like. She’s only ever seen one in frequent passing and infrequent conversation, and he’s hard to miss because of his outgoing personality and sunny appearance. 009 has hair the color of gold and eyes the same shade as a clear sky — he seems so happy and assuming, you’d never know he was actually a highly talented secret agent with a kill count. 

(That’s probably the point.)

Either way, he’s nice enough, if terrible at following up with the mental health checks like every other Double-O. She doesn’t know his actual name or anything concrete about him, aside from the fact that he’s exceedingly fond of Q.

Q, real name Nara Shikamaru. Ino’s childhood friend and a man who’s name she can’t ever utter while at work or under duress. She had a feeling they’d always end up in the same place, there was just no separating them — Chouji, too, worked in the kitchens because he would follow them anywhere, and making good food was just his calling.

Back to the topic at hand — Ino had dreamed and perhaps  _ hoped _ to one day handle a Double-O case, but she certainly never expected it to be a reality. Definitely not any time soon. Definitely not  _ right this moment. _

The file on her desk is for 002. He’s been working the field longer than any of the other Double-O’s, raised to be a soldier the moment he could walk, according to his file. Aside from the rumors she’s heard about the  _ shitstorm _ that is dealing with 001 and his  _ I-Can-Do-It-Myself _ attitude that drives Handler Haruno bonkers, 002 is the most notorious for sweet talking his way through every single mental health check without actually revealing anything.

And now Ino is in charge of him.

_ Oh my god, _ she thinks to herself excitedly. 

_ OH MY GOD! _ She thinks, a little less excitedly.

No, no, that’s no way to think. Ino clenches the file tightly, determination crossing her pretty features. This is her chance, and she’s not going to squander it by doubting herself. Ino has never been the type to do so, so she’s not going to start now. At his core, he’s just another human being. He’s like everyone else, if a little more messed up in the head and certainly a lot more skilled in….basically everything.

_ First thing’s first. I need to memorize this file. _ It was filled with details about previous appointments, and she’d been emailed multiple video files of the actual sessions to learn the way he responded and treated the therapists who’d attempted to handle him before.

“Oh, wow.” She breathes out, opening up the first video. 002 is  _ hot. _ Like, smoking gun hot. Magma hot.  _ Just her type _ hot. With eyes and hair the same shade of charcoal, thick lashes and plush lips — a pretty face that stood out despite the fact that his coloring was rather typical. The cool, collected type. Ino’s always been rather helpless around men with icy exteriors. What that said about  _ her _ mental health, she didn’t want to look too far into.

_ Be professional, Ino. _

She absolutely, definitely,  _ can not _ blow this. For all she knew, this could be a test. A trial run for a promotion. Or maybe the Double-O Psych Team really  _ was _ sick of dealing with them. Honestly she wouldn’t blame them, with all the horror stories she hears. But she won’t be like that.  _ Give up _ isn’t in her vocabulary, unless she’s screaming it at someone else. Ino never has and never will be the type to not strive for what she wants. And she wants this, more than she thought she did. 

Most people think she got this job because her father is the big man at the top of the Psych Department, and maybe they’re right. Maybe they’re not. Either way, she wants to prove that she belongs here, that she has the skills to back up the possible nepotism.

(She does like to think it was her own dedication and education that got her here. She hopes. She really, really hopes, because getting the desired result doesn’t feel as good when you cheated your way there.)

Ino puts the physical file down, swiveling in her chair to click out of the video playing on her computer screen. She opens the calendar and sets up the first mental health check for next week. According to the notification she was given, that’s around the time 002 is due back from his current mission.

_ Don’t you dare die in the field. You’re my ticket up in the world. And losing that pretty face would be such a shame. _

* * *

With a tablet tucked under one arm, Ino does not walk down the hall — she struts. Her heels clack against the floor, echoing off the walls. Her platinum blond hair swishes behind her, immaculately styled with not a strand out of place. She’s perhaps spent a little longer on her appearance than usual, careful to have every possible blemish covered. Everything about her appearance exudes power, and she moves like she knows it. Other employees scurry out of her way hastily, some eyes trailing after her because Ino is beautiful — and she knows that too, even dressed in a professional pencil skirt and white button-up. Office chiq never looked better, in her opinion.

When she gets to the door that houses her esteemed patient, she takes a moment to breathe. 

_ This is it. Do NOT fuck up, Yamanaka Ino! _

She opens the door.

The room is bare, rather prison-like with four white walls and no personal touches. A single steel table in the center of the room houses two chairs, one on each side — it looks like an interrogation room instead of a place to comfortably spill your guts. There’s a camera in every corner of the ceiling, which feels just as violating as the room itself. It’s….terrible. Is this what every Double-O has to deal with? No wonder none of them want to talk about themselves. There’s no comfort to be taken here.

In the seat across the table is 002, sitting prim and proper. He doesn’t look injured, despite only returning from his mission yesterday. His eyes are even darker in person, it’s like staring into a starless night — a void; they draw her in immediately and she feels, for a moment, like she’s drowning. 

Ino clears her throat. “002.” She still doesn’t know his real name, likely never will, even when he either retires or dies in the field, whichever comes first. “Glad to see you’re well.”

She hopes she’s not blushing. God, that would be embarrassing. And unprofessional, which is the exact opposite of what she’s going for right now.

_ Focus, Ino. Ignore the fact that he’s pretty. _

Oh, but that’s so  _ hard. _

002 smiles. “Thank you.”

The smile is fake, Ino notes, her crystalline gaze slicing over his perfect features carefully. Dissecting with a simple passing glance. 

“I’ll be handling your sessions from now on,” she says, though he’s likely already aware. “Your files state that you were rather unforthcoming during previous sessions.”

His attire is nothing more than a black turtleneck and black slacks, his manicured hands carefully clasped on the table before him, as if he’s trying to prove that he’s non-threatening. They both know he needs nothing more than his own two hands to kill her. 

“I suppose that’s their interpretation.”

She presses glossed lips together.  _ And so it begins. _

Well, she came prepared. Countless hours spent watching and rewatching the videos sent, picking apart reports, even speaking to his previous therapists — she did it all, because Ino does not enter a situation unprepared if she can help it. 

Ino leans forward. “I’m going to be frank with you, 002.”

“Of course,” he replies, that false smile still pasted to his face. “I expect nothing else.”

“I don’t expect you to be frank in return. Not now, and certainly not anytime soon.” Ino taps the table. Glances at her nails. At the camera closest to her. “You have trust issues and a disconnect from conventional emotion. Processing trauma has likely been trained out of you due to your childhood history, which leaves you open for worsened emotional strain and a heightened possibility of cracking in the field. To say it straight: you’re a liability and your mind is breakable. You’re emotionally vulnerable. Maybe not in anyone else’s eyes, and maybe no one else will be able to break you, but that’s not the point. It’s  _ you _ who’s the problem. Your own mind is going to destroy itself eventually.”

002 blinks, svelte fingers shifting slightly. A look of contemplation crosses his pale, pretty countenance. His lips quirk slightly, the corners of his void-like eyes crinkling in the faintest hint of amusement. “I see.”

Ino calls him out immediately. “No, you don’t.” She sits back in her seat, recrossing her legs under the table. She offers him a smile, the kind that’s pulled straight from the knife drawer. “But you will, I’ll make sure of it.”

002 leans forward, pulling his hands up to rest his chin on them, elbows pressed to the table. He looks like something terrible and gorgeous, interest flashing in the depths of his razor wire gaze. “Then I look forward to it, Doctor.”

Ino resolutely  _ does not _ blush, does not clear her throat. She can’t show weakness, the slightest hint will be detected by the shark-like monster of a man before her, pretty packaging be damned. She’s read his file. She’s seen his kill count. All Double-O’s radiate a sense of danger once you know what they really are.

But Ino is made of steel, made of marble. She is stronger than a little posturing, she is a Yamanaka and Yamanaka look lions in the eye. If she says something wrong, if she steps over an invisible boundary and 002 attacks her, you can bet she will go down kicking and screaming and she will make it her final mission in life to leave a mark on him, even if it’s just a single scratch from a nail. 

Not that she thinks he will attack her — because his files don’t hint at violence. He doesn’t seem the type to blow up or rage. He only acts aggressive when ordered. A veritable stone wall, a man carved of stone and ice with weapons for smiles.

“Let’s start with the reason we’re here. Debrief. How many people did you kill?”

002 doesn’t hesitate. “Eight.”

Ino hums and makes a note on her tablet. 002’s eyes flicker down to her fingers for a moment. Their assessing gazes meet head-on, like two predatory animals sizing each other up to determine whether the other is friend or foe.

“I would ask the age-old question of  _ how does that make you feel _ but that seems rather redundant, doesn’t it?”

002 tilts his head. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Ino says, confident and slipping the silky tumble of her hair back over her shoulder. “The answer is always going to be some form of  _ bad. _ No, I want to know what you do after. What activities do you do when you get home?”

There is quiet for a moment, 002 blinking without much emotion on his face, but that seems typical for him. He exhales softly, a barely audible sound. “Shower. Sleep.”

“Do you sleep well?”

002 give her a smile as blank as the look in his eyes. “Well enough.”

“Eight hours, at least. Uninterrupted.” She clarifies.

“Sometimes.”

Ino leans forward as well, folding her hands under her chin as well to mimic his pose. “Oh, pretty boy, I can do this all day.”

To his credit, 002 does not smile with his mouth. He smiles with his eyes and she gets a front-row seat to the hint of emotion creeping over his face before he stamps it out. “I think you’ll find my stamina isn’t lacking either.”

_ With a face like that, I don’t doubt it. _ She has to bite her tongue to prevent herself from voicing that  _ highly inappropriate for work _ thought out loud. 

“Then I think we’ll make the perfect team!” Ino grins. “First order of business — wanna move to my office instead? This room makes me feel like I’m in a prison. That kind of stress isn’t good for my skin.”

She pushes herself up, finally breaking the intense eye-contact and strutting for the door. Maybe it’s not protocol. Maybe she’s making a mistake — but not a single other therapist has gotten through to the Double-O’s so she’s not going to be taking advice from them. No, she’s going to do this her own way, because she’s Yamanaka Ino and she carves her own paths. 

When she opens the door, she throws a look over her shoulder, meeting the intrigued eyes of 002. “Well? Come on, chop chop!”

He gets up, tall and pale and intently focused. “Lead the way, Doctor.”

With a regal swish of her hair, she does.


End file.
